


Holiday Drabbles

by Polar_Attraction



Series: Collection Works [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Bellashield, Christmas, Easter, F/M, Female Thorin, Figrid - Freeform, Fluff, Genderbending, Holidays, Rule 63, St. Patrick's Day, Valentine's Day, aka Bagginshield, fem!Bilbo, fem!Thorin, gracefull!Sigrid, kiliel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-12 23:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3358712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polar_Attraction/pseuds/Polar_Attraction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which four—oh wait, six—lovely characters either find or appreciate true love in holiday settings.<br/>Unrelated to one another, un-betad; and yes, there will most likely be an Easter chapter in December.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kíliel: Valentines day

**Author's Note:**

> An AU in which waitress Tauriel gets a surprise visit from her boyfriend.

From: You-know-who (sent at 6:47)  _Can U come out for 1 min?_

The ginger-haired waitress paused to look at her vibrating phone and grinned to see the message. Of course her ever-romantic boyfriend had dropped by on Valentines day, no matter he worked the graveyard shift at his new job tonight. She'd known that he'd show up, but that didn't quell the warm feeling in her chest.

From: Tae-tae (sent 6:47)  _You know I'm busy. Give me a few._

Kíli frowned at the text, but typed off a reply before settling down to watch the clock. He knew it was a bad habit, and it was Valentines day; of course she'd be busy—but a selfish part of his brain was whining about lost sleep. He ignored said part of brain.

From: You-Know-Who (sent 6:48) _K_

Tauriel frowned at the lack of exclamation, then found herself grinning at the pouting face that popped into her mind. He wasn't as pouty as Fíli (if even half of the stories Sigrid told were true), but she could tell when he wanted to stick out his lower lip. Maybe he would become worse than his twin. After all, he was younger and they hadn't been together nearly as long. And let's not forget the whole 'forbidden relationship' aspect.

Less then three minutes later, Tauriel was rushing out to parking lot, a grin slowly splitting her face as she located the dark green truck.

From: Tae-Tae (sent 6:51) _That pout looks adorable on you._

Kíli jumped and looked around, finding his ginger-haired girlfriend right in his blind spot. He couldn't help but grin at her knowledge of details; also, the way she was giggling. It was adorable.

He opened the door, ignoring the bite of early February. She stepped toward him, and he pulled her closer to wrap his arms around her.

And then he kissed her, long and slow and loving, pouring fourteen months of pining and five months of requited love into a single kiss.

She melted.

When he finally released her lips, her knees were shaking so badly she was leaning on him almost completely. Knowing he could have this affect on her . . . he caught another peck before whispering, "I have something for you."

She smiled softly. Her eyes were still closed, and her knees hadn't stopped shaking, so he lifted her into his seat. When she opened her eyes, he presented her with a simple box of chocolates. And despite her sighs of joy at the taste, he knew it was the kiss that made her eyes glow.

-•-•-•-

"Tauriel got us a good reservation; I don't think the parking space will matter much."

"But—is that Kíli?"

"That's his car. I thought he was working the graveyard shift?

"He is . . ."

"Is that . . ."

"No way."

"Oh my GOODNESS!"

"What in the world, I thought he was single!? I'm his twin!"

"Please don't tell me they're doing that secret relationship thing."


	2. Fígrid: Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fíli is injured for the mid-winter festival, and somehow gains a dance from darning socks.

Fíli stated at the darkening sky. It was the time of the mid-winter festival again, and for the first time since Erebor fell, the dwarves were celebrating it. It was to be a joyous occasion, with his entire family together for the first time in years. Of course it would include drink, dancing, and competitions.

All of which were forbidden by Oín.

Fíli currently sat in his temporary bed in Dale. He was supposed to be out there, talking to distant relatives and making dwarven ladies swoon. Instead, he was stuck in bed with a almost-healed leg.

Of course, he would usually be up and about, ignoring all of Oín's warnings and threats; but the half-deaf dwarf knew that. He'd taken several extra measures

And while it was true that his leg had almost healed, he didn't have a female practically living next to him to make sure he was alright and had everything he needed. Needless to say, Bella and Tauriel had outdone themselves and sped up the healing process of their respective Durins.

But still, his leg was almost done healing, so he saw no reason for the sentinel. Not that he was complaining on who Oín had chosen; no, Bard's daughter was beautiful, especially in her royal dress. The style mixed dwarven and human preferences, something that had always been valued in Dale. It was a dark blue satin which also covered her legs in the form of trousers. Both dress and pants were hemmed with a black strip that was lined with gold. Her hair was adorned with similar black strips as well as the usual braid, and a few sapphires shone in the fading light that made it into the room.

To put it simply, it looked outright inappropriate for her to be darning socks.

She had been royal since the battle, and somehow her movements became incredibly captivating. Anyone who could make darning filthy socks look like the art of grace should be out dancing—yet here she was.

“My lady, if you do not mind me asking . . .” he paused, making sure he had her complete attention, “why would a beautiful creature such as yourself not want to join in the celebration?"

She flushed, but her expression did not change. She looked down for a second to finish the sock and place it in the mended pile—which was extraordinarily small compared to the somewhat filthy non-mended one—before glancing up at him with determination.

"I was told not to speak to you, for Oín was certain you would find a way to worm yourself out here."

Fíli's eyebrows shot upwards, and then he threw back his head and laughed. “He really does hate taking care of me!” he managed to gasp out.

She tilted her head to the side, a slight flush warming her face.

As he recovered from his laughter, he tilted his head and studied her in return.

Her green eyes were striking, and contained something he'd only seen in the eyes of mothers; he couldn't place what. Her cheekbones belonged to an angel, her skin to the flowers in Rivendell.

He flushed when he realized what he had been thinking and looked away. _It was only a thoughtful observation_ , he told himself.

_Tell that to Kíli_ another part of his brain said.

_Kíli's dancing with an elf_.

It was most likely true; he didn't have two broken legs, then get one of them infected.

He looked back up at the lady before him, about eighteen, he would guess; far too young for him to be thinking about her in that light.

_Kíli's seventy-seven and Tauriel is more than six-hundred years old_ , that traitorous little voice reminded him.

“Oín's just over-reacting,” Fíli heard himself say, and couldn't help but feel pleased when her eyes again rested on him.

He tilted his head, studying her. Yes, he decided, she was quite beautiful. He had no doubt part of the reason was the parts of her personality he could already sense, the parts that made her more than just another stranger walking along.

Sigrid was beautiful.

And he was young for a dwarf, the traitorous part of his mind reasoned.

_You're worse than Kíli_ , the part of his mind that said he knew better said as it left.

Sigrid was shaking her head and biting her lip.

He found himself smiling. “I'll give you my word that I will not to leave this room if you simply speak to me.”

She paused in her graceful work, _she keeps reminding me of a swan with how graceful she is_ , and studied him. He could tell she was searching her mind for a time when a dwarf hadn't been serious when saying that.

“Deal,” she said.

“So, why are you not enjoying the festivities?”

“The socks need darning,” she said simply. When he raised one eyebrow, she sighed and added, “I'm also avoiding suitors. But it's mostly the socks.”

Fíli laughed, and she smiled warmly in return.

“They chase me and won't take ‘no’ for an answer now, but they almost ignored me before,” she said.

He gave her a quick once-over, then said, “I find that hard to believe,” and the lovely color of pink she turned was beyond enough of a reward.

“Surely there is someone you'd like to dance with?” He asked.

“Subtle, Master dwarf,” she laughed. “No, no one has successfully diverted my affection.”

_We'll see if I can change that_ , he thought, relieved.

They fell into silence, and he simply watched her darn socks. He glanced at the pile next to her; as deft as she was, there was no way that she was going to get through all of them by the next day.

“May I help?” he asked.

She looked surprised for a moment, then gave him an honest grin. “That would be wonderful!”

And then she moved before he could, and all he could do was stare as she moved with grace unprecedented. He found himself scrambling to think of the first time they had met; there was no way she'd moved like that. It had to be in her blood.There was a small portion of the pile next to his bed, and then a blanket, and then she sat on said blanket and handed him an extra needle.

He swallowed as he took it, trying not notice how soft her hands felt. He was sure that for a human female, her skin was rough to the touch; but he was used to dwarvish calluses and skin that felt like leather.

Her touch lingered for a moment, and it was all he could do not to take her hand in his and kiss it.

He found himself smiling as they worked together in silence; after all, she would occasionally glance over to see if he was any good; and her widening eyes each time would have had him in stitches if he wasn't so glad he was impressing her. Right now he was very glad Dís had thrown the duty on him instead of his 'I-can't-sew-what-are-you-talking-about-what-tapestry-behind-the-door-I-didn't-make-that' younger brother.

There were many things that could be said about the room he and Sigrid were in, but ‘warm’ wasn't one of them. After a particularly cruel blast of air hissed past her satin and made he shiver, he said, “the floor can't be _that_ comfortable.”

She shot him a small smile, and then her eyes widened as he yanked the top blanket off and criss-crossed his legs to make room for her.

“Oh, no, I couldn't—” she began, and with a sigh he got on his knees, grabbed the blanket, leaned over, draped said blanket over her, and put his hands on her waist.

Though they had a blanket between them now, her eyes went wide at the touch. She squeaked _woah, that was adorable_ as he yanked her off the floor and onto the space he'd made for her.

He sat back and went on as if nothing had ever happened.

After a few moments, Sigrid giggled and also returned to her work.

Despite the biting chill, Fíli found a warmth growing in his chest at the sound.

It _was_ cold outside; snow covered almost every inch of Dale and what was exposed of Erebor. If it weren't that the festival was usually held in Dale, there's no way the dwarves and humans would agree to leave the warm indoors of the mountain and prepare the city for a summer move. He wondered if, when the time came, all of the humans would move out of the dwarven kingdom. The two groups had certainly meshed well, and the dwarves wouldn't force the humans out; and whenever the winter was harsh the doors to Erebor would be open. He supposed that with a little push they would eventually look something like Bree.

He realized they were sitting in silence again.

“Oh, goodness, I'm becoming like Thorin!” Fíli exclaimed.

“Hm?” the girl beside him asked, and he quickly elaborated.

“He's always brooding! Thinking about how to run the kingdom, stewing in his own thoughts. Sometimes even Bella's kiss isn't enough to wake him from the spell.”

She threw back her head and laughed. He felt all air leave him for a moment, but it wasn't just her laughter that made his lungs constrict. The black strips that held up her bun were not very secure, and her mirth shook them loose.

It tumbled out if its prison, cascading down her back and catching the glow of the candles.

He fought for breath as she continued to laugh, trying to pull her hair back up.

“I've never seen finer curls,” he whispered. She flushed, meeting his eyes and the slowly moving her hands from her hair.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled softly. “How has your family been?” he asked.

They passed hours and hours in conversation, darning socks and watching walls of formality fall. He managed to coax laughter from her until her cheeks were rosy, and she somehow got him to flash a sheepish grin.

It took them a few minutes to realize that there was music lilting in the distance.

“Do you think they're dancing?” she asked him.

He snorted. “You think my brother would miss a second of time he could be spending with his elf?”

She giggled, and he felt the smile on his face widen.

“My lady, perhaps I might have a dance?”

He stood on the bed, if only because she convinced him. He had a suspicion that it was to make sure he wouldn't try any crazy movements. To be honest, he did not mind; it meant he was taller than her for the moment.

He was grateful for his coat, for it was chilly. She pulled the blanket around herself tightly, and he put his hand on her waist, securing at least part of it. She held the other side of the blanket in the hand he took, and together they swayed back and forth, not really trying to dance more than just stand there together. The music stopped and stared again, but they stayed.

She leaned forward and her chin fit perfectly between his neck and shoulder. He pressed a soft touch of his lips to her hair, afraid to actually kiss her there, and they stayed like that for some time.

It seemed as though, perhaps, they slept; for time passed blink by blink, and far too quickly the sound stopped all together.

It was only when they heard Thorin's soft groan from the doorway and a muttered, “what is wrong with this family?" That they broke apart, both blushing terribly.

But Thorin was no longer there—perhaps he never had been, so they quietly went back to darning socks.

-•-•-•-

"Thorin?"

"Hm?"

"You seem distracted."

"Ha! It seems the blood of Durin doesn't want to stay dwarvish."

"What do you—Fíli too!?"

"Well, last I saw him, he was just standing there with Bard's daughter, so yes. Fíli too."

"Won't that create some kind of political . . . I don't know . . ."

"Don't worry, Bella. We'll figure it out."

"We'll figure what out?"

"Kíli, since when do you eavesdrop on Thorin's conversations?"

"Since forever, Bella. Now, what were you talking about?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe, Thorin complaining about no pure dwarflings in the line of Durin . . .  
> Yes, there are candles; people back then didn't use torch's to light up places, that would create a lot of smoke. Hope everyone enjoys this silliness. Like I said, Easter in December, and Christmas in February.  
> By the way, is it dwarves or dwarrows?


	3. Either: Christmas or New Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A more open-ended drabble.

They didn't argue often. Debate, yes, but they were never on opposite sides of the playing field, not budging an inch.

In fact, the only time they did argue these days was over whether their courting days started at the Mid-Winter festival or New Years. He was sure that he'd given her a gift at the Mid-Winter festival, but she insisted that it didn't count. Everyone got presents around then. But to get someone a present for New Years; that was very different.

Over the years, it became the only thing they got into arguments about, and even the debates were slowing down. They had things to do, and that list was beginning to pile up. Time alone was scarcer. Simply cuddling on their couch became a favorite passtime.

But whenever they got in an argument, it was always about that.

They still argued and laughed over it in the great halls of his fathers.


	4. Kíliel: St. Patricks Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff

She was smiling.

Kíli stared across the little field full of clovers, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.  _She was smiling._

He'd been friends with Tauriel since it became clear they shared enough interests it was either that or be enemies in the classroom; which was probably eight years ago. And in eight years of friendship, he hadn't seen more than half a smile.

It was true that he brought her here in one of his attempts to rectify that, but he'd never thought he might succeed. Well, he'd hoped. But he knew that her parents had taken her full smile with them.

But here she was.

Smiling.

In fact, she was ignoring the clovers that surrounded them in favor of smiling. Not just smiling.

Smiling at  _him._

She giggled at the look on his face, and he couldn't help grinning and laughing breathlessly.

_Hang it, I think I'm in love!_


	5. Bagginshield: Easter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fem!Thorin and Bilbo run into each other on Easter. Brief mentions of religion (Bilbo believes, Thíz does not).

The morning was calm; the sunrise a gentle shade of pink and the sweeter-sounding birds chirping a song. The air was light, but Thíz's heart was not.

She suppressed a sigh as she pulled the keys out of the ignition. Today was Easter. And for most, it was a day of life, one of light! If you believed that sort of thing (which she personally did not),it was a day of resurrection. But not to her. And not to her wards.

No, today was a day of death.

More specifically, her sister's.

Thíz let her forehead rest against the wheel for a second, gathering her strength. She needed this. She needed to act normal. To be strong for them. But most of all;

She needed chocolate.

And the poor soul who waited until Easter morning to get treats for the children was so rare the sale was certain to have started.

She suppressed another sigh (this one more successful) and got out of the car.

• 

Bilbo stared out the window of the car, puffed his cheeks, patted his pockets, let his breath out, and patted his cheeks.

He had this.

Today was Easter.

It was a day of life. If you believed that sort of thing (which he personally _did_ ), it was a day of resurrection.

But despite the Easter Mass he was to attend later, the day held more fear than hope, more despair than joy, and more longing than peace.

For him it hadn't come in one, big, swooping act of fate; it came in small things. Things he did not want to remember. Things that reinforced how alone he was in the world. Things he was not supposed to be thinking about!

Bilbo knocked on his temple to dispel his inner dialogue, shook his head, and opened the door.

He was here to get Frodo candy. (He'd been stupid enough to put it off until the last minute). He'd be in and out in a flash.

•

Of course it was in the chocolate aisle that it happened.

Thíz was hurrying, worried that Kíli or Fíli had woken early and was left with only their sleepy twin for comfort.

She turned and ran right into a curly mop of hair, complete with frizz and a body attached. She stumbled back, catching the owner by the arms as he did the same, then quickly putting a hand on the small of his back when he started to fall despite support.

“I-I'm truly sorry!” He stuttered, and Thíz nodded. She'd never been one for conversation, and running into an (attractive) person never did anyone any favors. She let go quickly.

“I—I suppose I owe you a thanks,” he said quickly.

“No, not at all. There've been too many accidents on this day.”

He froze. “Wait, what?”

She shook her head, but something compelled her to say; “my sister died on Easter.”

“Oh,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

She nodded, and went to move away, a little embarrassed.

“I hate Easter too,” he blurted.

She paused and looked at him, then tilted her head in an indication that she was listening.”

“I don't have any big reason, like you, but it's . . . it's just a bad day. I know it's the day the Savior was resurrected, but it has more despair than hope. For me.”

She was silent for a moment, then said softly, “it's hard to be alone and longing when everyone else is content.”

They stood in silence like that, both a little surprised at their eloquence. But then they remembered their charges and hurriedly finished shopping, exchanging little more than rueful smiles.

And then it turned out their nephews were best friends, so . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sorely tempted to put this into ‘Ideas for the Taking’. I'm still on the edge about it, so if you want to take a concept (or the entire thing) feel free to.

**Author's Note:**

> Every-comment is welcome to my kingdom of drabbles and one-shots.  
> Happy Holidays!


End file.
